


Everything I Know

by mxartbotboy



Series: The Typist and the Agent [14]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: 5+1, Domestic vibes, Fluff, M/M, Relationship Development, Slice of Life, Time Skips, hand holding, so much hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28020552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxartbotboy/pseuds/mxartbotboy
Summary: Five times Javi holds your hand and one time you hold his.
Relationships: Javier Pena/Male Reader, Javier Peña/Reader
Series: The Typist and the Agent [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831069
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26
Collections: The Story of Javi/Male Reader





	Everything I Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mochaaaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochaaaa/gifts).



###  **One**

It was when he spent the night, that first time you slept together. Back then, things were simpler and more complicated at the same time, a web of feelings that you had yet to untangle. Once Javi had climbed out of bed, there was a part of you that was certain he would leave. You didn’t say anything as he pulled his underwear and pants back on, slinging his shirt over his shoulders and tucking it haphazardly into his waistband. He ran a hand through his hair and met your gaze; you watched him swallow and then he bent down and grabbed his shoes off the floor.

“You don’t have to go,” you found yourself saying, and Javi paused. For a moment, you thought he would shrug it off, but instead he placed his shoes at the foot of the bed and straightened.

“Okay.”

“Hungry?”

There was nothing in your cupboards except for canned soup, but Javi didn’t seem to mind when you offered. Warming it up, you found it easy to chat with him; about his day, about your apartment. Like those times outside the embassy or in the break room, but different now.

And when you had yawned, Javi had lifted the dishes away to your sink and turned. “It’s late,” he’d said, scratching the back of his head, “If you want me to go–”

“You can stay,” you said quickly, ignoring the burning feeling in your cheeks, “If you want.”

It had been strange to have someone else climb into bed with you, but the strangeness melted away when you settled in behind him, looping an arm over his waist and pulling him against you. Despite your earlier activities, it still felt forward of you, until he laid his hand on top of yours. His fingers were calloused and rough on the back of your knuckles, but so, so warm. They curled around your palm, pressed flat to the bed, and his thumb dragged up the back of yours.

It had been so long since someone held your hand like this you had almost forgotten.

###  **Two**

At the embassy, it wasn’t uncommon for people to carpool. Many of the agents and staff had been housed in the same areas, and the small parking lot led to a lot of colleagues sharing rides in the mornings and evenings.

That was why you let Javi drive you. No one questioned you climbing out of his car in the mornings, or why you slipped into it at the end of the day. It became common enough that on the days where Javi stayed late, when you had to drive yourself, the car felt empty, too big for one person.

And it was one morning, a bit earlier because Javi had an early meeting, with you half slumped in the passenger seat. Stopped at a red light, Javi glanced over, “You didn’t have to come, you know.”

“I know,” you yawn, “But I like–” You cut yourself off. It had only been a few weeks of whatever was going on with you and Javi and you were still toeing the line of how much of your feelings you wanted to talk about. Somehow, admitting to liking driving with Javi seemed like too much, so instead you settled back and let the car fall into silence.

It was when Javi moved his arm that you blinked, your sleepiness lifting as he reached across the centre console and slipped his fingers between yours, resting them together on your lap. He didn’t look over, instead continuing to drive with one hand. Javi held loosely, almost casually, his fingers curling gently. Palm to palm, you couldn’t help but feel the flip in your chest at the contact.

###  **Three**

Coffee.

It was that single-minded focus you usually had around two pm, where nothing mattered except getting a cup of caffeine to fuel the rest of your day.

Javi was already in the break room, pouring himself a cup from the communal pot. He looked up when you approached, giving that subtle smile of his that you knew was only for you. He stepped to the side, sliding the carafe back into the machine.

“Afternoon coffee, huh?”

“How’d you guess?” you reply, setting down your coffee mug from the morning.

Javi snorted, “Do you ever come in here for anything else?”

Pulling the carafe from the machine, you roll your eyes, “What, do you?”

“Here.” Javi touched the handle of the carafe, the side of his hand brushing yours, “Let me.” His voice had dropped a tone, softer than before, and you release the carafe to him. He pours your cup, the steam rising up and swirling around his fist.

“There you go,” he says, putting the carafe away and plucking your hand that was resting on the counter up, “Black and freshly brewed.” He bent your hand around the handle of the cup and held it there for a moment, the lines of his fingers following yours. One second, and then two passed and it felt like the entire room had shrunken down into that one point of contact between you.

Until he pulled his hand away, fingertips trailing along the back of your hand, and picked up his own mug. “See you later,” he said, a smirk crossing his face as he sipped and walked past you, frozen to the spot with your mug in hand.

###  **Four**

“Come on!” Javi called out over his shoulder, “Afraid of a little rain?”

You stood at the entry way to Juan’s, zipping up your jacket. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” you huffed out, turning up your collar. Even in the evening dark, the absolute sheet of rain coming down was impossible to ignore. Having parked all the way down the street, you knew that you were about to get soaked, and the idea wasn’t appealing.

Javi had already stepped out into the rain, walking down to the sidewalk and turning to look at you. His hair was plastered to his head, dripping down his forehead and along the back of his neck. How he could not possibly care about the drenching of cold water you would never know, but you jog over to his side, shuddering at the sleet of water dumped over you.

You both started walking at a brisk pace. At first you had tried shoving your hands in the pockets of your jacket, but the rain quickly took care of soaking through them and wetting them anyways. So you pulled them out, letting them swing by your sides as you walked. Coming up to a corner, you step off the curb, only to have Javi’s arm whip up across your chest to stop you. A car goes whizzing by, sending a wave of puddle water splashing up and you jump back with a yelp.

“Come on, water boy,” Javi chuckles, reach out and taking your hand, “We’re almost there.”

The touch of his fingers in the middle of the street sends a minor wave of panic through your stomach. But it’s dark, and the rain is so heavy no one is looking as they pass by, and the warmth of Javi’s wet hand around yours is wonderful.

He holds it until you get back to the car, and you mind being wet just a little bit less.

###  **Five**

He holds your hand for a long time, for nearly the whole time he smokes his cigarette. He lets go only briefly when you shuffle yourself around to sit next to him on the bed, capturing your fingers again as soon as you settle into the mattress.

“Any reason?” you ask, watching the glowing ember, “Why you started again?”

Javi blows out a puff of smoke, directing it away from your face, and shrugs, “I’ve been back one day and I know that nicotine gum is just not going to cut it.”

“Was it really that bad of a first day?” you ask. You trace your thumb along his knuckle. His hands are softer than they used to be.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Javi taps the cigarette into the cup he’d put on the bedside table and takes another drag, “These bureaucratic types are going to be the death of me.”

Squeezing his hand, you lean to the side to bump your shoulder against his, “You’ll do fine.”

He chuckles humourlessly and drops the butt into the cup with a sigh. You both fall into a comfortable silence, Javi turning to look at you. The early morning light casts sharp shadows across his face, highlighting his striking profile. Your stomach twists; you’d missed him. This, being together in the in-between moments. It had been so long since you’d seen him, since you’d been able to touch him like this, that you can’t help pulling his hand up and kissing his knuckles with careful lips.

You start at the pinky and move your way across, keenly aware of the way that Javi is watching you, until you reach his thumb and turn his hand over to kiss his palm. His other lifts up and brushes a stray hair off your forehead before cupping your jaw.

“Let’s go back to sleep.”

###  **Plus One**

“Do you mind?” you ask, gesturing to the radio you keep on the kitchen counter.

Javi shakes his head, skirting around you to reach for the coffee pot, “No, go ahead.”

With a turn of the dial, the radio crackles to life, stuck between two channels. You twist the tuner until a voice speaking rapidly in Spanish comes into focus. You can barely understand two words of it, but it was a channel that played nice morning music, good for cooking breakfast. And you know that Javi liked it, even if he didn’t say so.

You cross over to the fridge and you pull out the egg carton, “One egg or two?”

“None for me,” Javi says, slurping down a mouthful of coffee.

“Javi,” you say, setting the carton down on the counter, “You can’t work on a ranch for ten hours a day and start it with a chugged down cup of coffee.”

“Dad has food there, I’ll be fine.”

“ _Javier_.”

He looks up at the use of his full name, mug still pressed to your lips. You lift the spatula you had pulled out of the drawer up and point it at him, eyebrows raised, “One egg. Or two?”

Javi’s shoulders sag and he sighs, rubbing at his forehead as he turns to the kitchen table, “Two. I’m going to be late, you know.”

  
  
“What, will he fire you?”

Javi smiles and shakes his head, taking another sip of coffee while you turn to the pan on the stove. The sounds of sizzling and Spanish pop music soon fill the kitchen and you pull out a couple of plates. It was a long weekend and the university was closed, so you had the day off, and you had intended from the moment you woke up for the both of you to have a proper breakfast for once. Javi too many times had raced out the door at the early hours of the morning with nothing but a stomach full of caffeine and a peck on the lips to keep him going.

Not this morning, though. Javi may still have had to go in to help Chucho with some maintenance they were finishing up from the weekend, but you had all the time in the world right now to make some scrambled eggs. You served up the eggs and brought them over, pressing a kiss to Javi’s cheek as you set the plate down in front of him.

“Hey.” Javi caught your cheek as you pulled away and tilted your face so he could kiss you, slow and mingled with the taste of coffee. You reach up and place your hand over his, running your fingers down to his wrist and then back up to intertwine them together as you pulled back.

“Thank you for the eggs,” Javi said as you slipped into your own chair, still holding his hand.

Still holding his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops, bit of a late upload today but I was DISTRACTED by some things (namely the bombass new Mandalorian episode...). Bit of fluff and gentle times for these two, as they well deserve.
> 
> find me on tumblr at [mxartbotboy](https://mxartbotboy.tumblr.com), come say hello!


End file.
